Camilla turned to him, her frustration bubbling over. “Throw people away? You’re the ones who neglected me! You both replaced me the second she showed up.”

Jackson scoffed, his eyes narrowing. “If this is about Katie again, then you’re making a big deal out of nothing.”

Ridge nodded in agreement. “She hasn’t done anything to you, Camilla. Why are you always so bitter about her?”

Camilla let out a bitter laugh, shrugging as if their words didn’t sting. “You don’t get it, do you? It doesn’t matter. I’ll be out of your hair soon enough.”

Jackson frowned, confusion replacing his anger. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I resigned,” she said flatly, meeting their startled gazes. “The job I fought tooth and nail for because no one wanted a woman in the intelligence group? It’s done. You don’t have to deal with me anymore.”

Ridge stepped forward, his voice tinged with concern. “Camilla, why would you—”

Before he could finish, Jackson’s phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen, his expression shifting instantly. “It’s Katie,” he muttered, answering the call.

“Jackson,” Katie’s voice came through, laced with exaggerated pain. “I hurt myself during training. Can you come help? I think I twisted my ankle.”

Without hesitation, Jackson turned to Ridge. “We need to go.”

Ridge nodded, already moving. They both looked at Camilla briefly, as if expecting her to protest, but she just waved them off. “Go. She needs you.”

They left in a hurry, and Camilla watched them disappear without a second glance back at her. She stood there, the smoke from the fire curling lazily into the sky, her frustration giving way to quiet resignation.

She wondered, almost idly, what they’d think if they knew she was getting married. Would they even care? Would it matter to them that she was leaving for good?

On her way to Martin’s office, she passed the training grounds. Her steps faltered as she spotted Katie, seated on the edge of a bench, with Jackson and Ridge hovering over her. Jackson held her ankle, inspecting it, while Ridge handed her a bottle of water.

Katie caught sight of Camilla and smiled sweetly, a smug glint barely concealed in her expression. She raised a hand in a cheery wave, playing the part of innocent charm.

Camilla didn’t react, keeping her face blank as she looked away and kept walking.

Memories tugged at the edges of her mind, unbidden and unwelcome. Years ago, it had been her in that same spot. She could still feel the sting of a twisted ankle from a mistimed spar, Jackson and Ridge rushing to her side, their concern genuine. Back then, they had cared about her, protected her. The three of them had been inseparable—a team that promised to stick together through anything.

But time had passed, and things had changed. Promises faded, loyalties shifted, and now, she was just a shadow of what once was, watching from the sidelines as someone else took her place.

By the time she reached Martin’s office, the ache of old memories had settled deep, but she pushed it aside. Martin looked up from his desk, his usual calm presence grounding her.

In Martin’s office, Camilla sat across from him, steadying her nerves. “Thank you for everything. You’ve been like a father to me.”

Martin’s expression softened. “You’ve earned your place here, Camilla. I’ve seen you fight for it every step of the way, proving everyone wrong.” He leaned forward. “Do Jackson and Ridge know about your resignation—or the marriage?”

Camilla shook her head. “About the resignation, yes, but they didn’t care. And no, and I’d rather they didn’t know about the marriage. They’ve moved on. This is just how it has to be.”

Martin sighed, his gaze thoughtful. “You three used to be so close. Remember when Ridge set up that obstacle course? You fell in the mud, and Jackson laughed so hard he couldn’t even help you out.”

A small smile crossed her face. “I didn’t talk to them for a week after that.”

“They practically camped outside your door, begging you to forgive them,” Martin chuckled. Then his tone turned serious. “Are you sure you don’t want to tell them? At least say goodbye?”

Camilla’s smile faded. “It’s better this way. Let’s just leave it at that.”

“You know I always thought you’d marry one of them,” he said.

Camilla smiled a little. “I thought so, too, but I think we really don’t know what the future holds. Please, make sure they will not know… until I am gone here.”

Martin studied her for a moment before nodding. “I’ll respect your decision. As a token of appreciation, I’ve arranged for a crystal plaque to honor your service. It should be in your room by now.”

Camilla nodded, her voice quiet. “Thank you, Martin. For everything.”

She left his office, her thoughts swirling. As she approached her room, she froze. Katie stood there, holding the plaque, her fingers tracing the inscription.

“Nice gift,” Katie said, her voice sweet but to Camilla who could see behind those innocent facade of Katie, it felt like a mockery.

Katie innocently smiled, holding the box delicately as if it were a fragile treasure. “Camilla, due to your hard work and loyalty, Don Victorio of the Silver Bullets awards you this plaque… and I’m here to give it to you.”

Camilla arched a brow, crossing her arms. “Well, then hand it over. I want to—”

“I would love to,” Katie interrupted quickly, her tone almost too sweet, “but maybe I can hand it over perhaps… next week?”

“Next week?” Camilla’s voice was sharp with disbelief.

“I mean,” Katie said, her tone turning thoughtful as she held the box closer, “can I borrow it for a little while? I know it’s not mine, but seeing this—seeing your plaque—it inspires me to do better. You know, for motivation.”

Camilla’s lips curved into a cold smile, all teeth and no warmth. “Wow, you really don’t have an ounce of shame, do you?”

Katie blinked, the corners of her mouth twitching as if she were trying to appear hurt. “Why are you being so mean? I just—”

“Do you even hear yourself?” Camilla cut her off, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “If you’re so desperate for a plaque, why don’t you earn one? Work hard, talk to the intelligence division, prove yourself. Maybe, just maybe, you’ll get your own someday.”

Katie’s expression faltered, but only for a moment. Then, with a soft pout, she whispered, “I’m not trying to take it from you. I just thought… I could keep it with me for a while. To remind myself of what’s possible.”

“Enough,” Camilla snapped, extending her hand. “Hand it over. Now.”

Katie hesitated, her grip tightening on the box. “Do you have to act like this? It’s just a plaque, Camilla.”

“Exactly. My plaque,” Camilla retorted, stepping closer. “You don’t deserve to hold it, not for a second.”

Katie’s arms wrapped protectively around the box, her innocent mask slipping slightly as she whispered, “Why can’t you just let me have this? It’s not a big deal!”

Camilla growled under her breath, her temper flaring. She reached for the box, but Katie turned away, clutching it like a lifeline.

“Stop it!” Katie shrieked as Camilla grabbed the edge of the box. “You’re going to break it!”

“You’re the one breaking things by pulling this stunt!” Camilla snapped, yanking harder.

In their struggle, the box slipped from Katie’s hands and hit the ground with a loud crack. The sharp sound of glass shattering echoed through the room, and both women froze.

Katie let out a dramatic cry, stumbling back and clutching her leg. “Oh no! It cut me!” she wailed, pulling up her skirt to reveal a thin, superficial gash on her shin.

Camilla stared at her, unimpressed. “Seriously? A scratch? That’s what you’re crying about?”

As the door swung open, Jackson and Ridge entered, their eyes immediately drawn to Katie, who was sitting on the floor clutching her leg.

“Katie!” Jackson rushed to her side, alarmed. “What happened?”

Ridge’s sharp gaze turned to Camilla. “What did you do?”

Camilla, still seething, pointed at Katie. “Ask her. She wouldn’t let go of the plaque! I tried to take it back, and it slipped.”

Katie looked up, her face pale but her voice soft. “I… I think it was my fault. I shouldn’t have asked to borrow it in the first place.”

Jackson frowned, helping Katie up. “Katie, stop. You’re hurt, and Camilla should’ve just let it go.”

“Let it go?” Camilla’s voice rose, her anger bubbling over. “You think I should’ve just handed over something I worked for because she wanted it? Do you even hear yourselves?”

Ridge folded his arms, his expression hard. “Camilla, it’s not that deep. It’s just a plaque. You could’ve lent it to her for a while—it wouldn’t have killed you.”

Camilla’s chest tightened, her words laced with bitterness. “You two have no idea what really happened. But of course, you’d take her side. That’s all you ever do.”

Katie shook her head quickly, tears welling in her eyes. “No, please don’t fight because of me. I really didn’t mean to cause trouble.”

Jackson placed a hand on Katie’s shoulder, his tone soft. “It’s not your fault, Katie. Camilla just overreacted.”

Camilla’s hands curled into fists. “Overreacted? She was clinging to it like it was hers! I was trying to take back what’s mine!”

“Camilla,” Ridge cut in sharply, “you made this a bigger deal than it needed to be. Katie wasn’t trying to steal it. She just admires you. Why couldn’t you see that?”

Camilla let out a hollow laugh, the betrayal sinking in like a blade. “Admiration? Sure. Keep telling yourselves that.”

Without another word, she turned and strode out, her thigh aching with every step. It wasn’t until she reached the hallway that she noticed blood soaking through her pants.

“Perfect,” she muttered bitterly, leaning against the wall to catch her breath. She wiped her eyes quickly, refusing to let the tears fall.

Camilla returned to the room once Jackson, Ridge, and Katie were gone. Her chest tightened at the sight of the shattered plaque. With a heavy sigh, she cleaned up the mess, carefully picking up the broken pieces before tending to her wound.

As she wrapped her leg, her phone buzzed. Seeing her father’s name, she put the call on speaker.

“Hey, Dad,” she faintly said.

“Camilla,” his deep voice filled the room. “Is something wrong?”

“No,” she said flatly, tightening the bandage on her thigh.

“Are you sure?” he said, unconvinced. “Anyway, the wedding’s coming up soon. I need you to prepare.”

“Okay, Dad.”

Just then, the sound of footsteps outside the door caught her attention.

Jackson and Ridge, walking past, stopped in their tracks as her father’s words carried into the hallway. They exchanged wide-eyed glances before stepping into the room.

“Wedding?” they said in unison, their voices a mix of confusion and disbelief. “What wedding?”